


Supposedly, There Were Stars

by GalaxyGazing



Category: 9 (2009)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGazing/pseuds/GalaxyGazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a soul is divided the action could never be undone. However, when presented with its fragments, the soul would remember itself and try to remerge. When it did so, that sensation was supposedly pleasant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supposedly, There Were Stars

 

Supposedly, there were stars.

The indefinite layer of smog which covered the atmosphere allowed for little light to breach it. Occasionally, the gray clouds would thin and the dull peach of a sunset would attempt to reach earth, but never were they sheer enough to even suggest that there was a whole universe beyond them.

Stars, it seemed, were one of the many things lost in the battle of machine and man. 9 liked to believe they were out there, though—glittering, unadulterated by the horrors that had taken place below. For now, they existed only in 3 and 4’s books, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t exist elsewhere.

In any case, they had missed their chance at a sunset tonight. The pocket watch 1 kept in the church’s main sanctuary had showed a time much later than sundown when he and 5 passed it to climb to the watchtower.

It was dark, still, and quiet. Darkness was normal but quietude was a blessing which made this night an uncommonly nice one where they could experience the rare sensation of being at ease.

Burlap brushed together in what could only be described as a kiss. When 9 pulled away, 5’s singular optic remained closed, brow knotted upwards. 9 ran a copper digit down his cheek, whispering so quietly that the words sounded more like air than noise, “You okay?”

5 inhaled shakily and nodded against him, “Yeah, just nervous.”

“We don’t have to do this. I’m happy just to sit here with you.”

5, more than any of the other ragdolls, disliked the idea of unraveling—being _open._ For creatures composed of so little and such simple material, it was terrifying the small amount of effort it took to take them apart. He’d lost an optic in the war, felt his wires spark brokenly, and it had hurt. Taking oneself apart deliberately, even for a good reason, made 5 tense.

But this particular sort of opening wasn’t supposed to hurt, he tried to remind himself. Clearly, there had been literature on it, so it couldn’t be that foreign of a concept. If you turned the page in the book on soul splicing, a chapter on soul reuniting immediately followed. In short, it was impossible; once a soul is divided the action could never be undone. However, when presented with its fragments, the soul would remember itself and try to remerge. When it did so, that sensation was supposedly pleasant.

“No, I...I want to do this with you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll go slow.”

Their mouths met again and, with the utmost care, 9 helped 5 lay to the floor of the watchtower. Standing above him on all fours, 9 locked his gaze with 5’s, his optics swirling wide to compensate for the lack of light. Answering a question too palpable to need asking, 5 nodded wordlessly and their mouths fit together once more before 9 began to move downwards.

9 ran a single digit down the seam of 5’s make, barely applying any weight to it, ghosting it down the road of his form. Moving slowly as to cause no alarm, 9 dipped the same finger into the inner rim of 5’s top button, circling it, prompting the pearly sound of metal on metal.

5’s feet were planted firmly on the floor, allowing him to lift his hips responsively to the sensation. It was odd but somehow reassuring that, however different these bodies were from that of a human’s, little subconscious reactions such as those had carried over.

Noting the positive response, 9 moved his finger downwards to rim 5’s second button, soothing the absence of his touch on the first button with his mouth. Slowly, 9 kissed around the smooth edge of the worn object, loving it with every amount of care it deserved. Because they were created from so few substances, to cast off any part of them as unimportant was to dissemble their very being, to scoff at the care the scientist had taken to make them. 5 had lost an optic and had weathered it the best he could, 9 wanted to make sure he never lost anything else.

5 gasped at the duel sensation of both buttons being attended to. He threw his head backwards, quietly whimpering. With 5’s breathy sounds as encouragement, 9 withdrew himself from the buttons and moved to press his fingertips, just barely, under the rim of 5’s long seam. 9 ran his hand down the length of 5’s body, slowly pressing 3 digits into his folds before running them all the way back up to the top of the seam. 5 twitched his hips but was otherwise undisturbed by it.

Carefully, 9 withdrew, sitting up again to find that 5 was quivering, his own hands gripping 9’s shoulders tightly.

“Are you ready?”

“Y-yeah.”

9 hoped the pressure of pulling 5’s first button to the side wouldn’t be too much for him. He tugged the round metal to the right, eliciting a startled whine which 9 closed his mouth around in a kiss. 9 pulled the metal further rightward and 5 raised his hips, wrapping his arms around 9’s back and burying his face into his shoulder. Finally, the button had been strained far enough for it to slip through its little opening in the burlap. 9 fed the button through the hole and 5 gasped when he felt his chest come open.

With the same care he took with the first, the process was repeated for the second button and 5 let out a quiet noise when he was completely undone. 9 sat up to admire his work—the minimal structure of a wire form and the circular disk of a voice box were all that was inside. He looked to meet 5’s gaze but found that 5, too, was staring at his own open form. He was not used to seeing himself like this and was panting lightly. Then, almost bashfully, 5 raised his optic and 9 reassured him with a smile. This was as close to being naked as they could ever feel.

“You’re beautiful.”

5’s optic darted away immediately, visibly flustered, “H-he took the most care with you, you know. The scientist. Sometimes I think the rest of us were just trials.”

“I don’t mean your craftsmanship. I mean you.”

5 was absolutely speechless. For beings such as them, their sole hope was that maybe, somehow, they were more than the sum of their parts. To be adored based on this factor, to be seen beyond the burlap and the thread and the missing optic...it was incredible. When no words would come to him, 5 pulled 9 down for a hungry kiss before confidently whispering, “Do it.”

9 nodded and gently pulled his own zipper down its metal road. Tenderly, he lowered himself so at last they could touch and pressed their bodies together. Their open forms met quietly for a brief moment before the process began to stir.

Slowly, a warmth started to grow in the empty pocket between them. Then the warmth melded into a different feeling, a stronger and more undefinable one. Then, all at once, the process exploded into an overwhelming ray of sensation.

This was pleasure in its ultimate form.

They both felt it simultaneously and made corresponding noises. Instinctively, 9 began to rock his hips and 5 hooked his legs around his back. They clung to each other relentlessly, squirming to cope with the unadulterated ecstasy, completely unable to control their voices. The lips of their open folds revealed a pale green glow, spilling out through the porous burlap and bleeding through their chests whenever they misaligned.

The soul’s attempt to reconnect with itself could be equated to oil and vinegar being forced together, sliding and swirling against each other but never being able to mix. The soul would force itself together with the most direct pressure possible before ultimately losing its stability and sliding off into another direction in a devastating shock of pleasure.

9 canted his hips to help this process along, disallowing the souls from ever aligning for too long, working them around each other in an endless whirl of over sensory bliss. 5 pressed his face into the crook of 9’s shoulder, mouth pressed to the red string that was so very out of place with the rest of him, “ _Please_.”

Both the ragdolls felt the sensation grow more rapid and more frantic as the souls doubled their efforts to merge. 9’s hips snapped forcefully and 5 pulled him closer, needing such a vivid sensation to reach some sort of conclusion, some sort of peak before he lost himself to it entirely.

Then, finally, the light between the both of them grew. Their movements halted as they both went rigid. An inconceivable overload took them over, spreading like an electrical current through their metal limbs, tingling in their fabrics, causing them to shut their optics.

Raw pleasure coursed between them and the green light was stripped to white as they met their orgasms will full force. Wildly, they trembled through the best of it before the light went dark, separate soul fragments retreating to each of their host bodies, leaving both ragdolls to throb with the aftershocks.

For a moment, neither of them moved as they basked and recovered in each other’s embrace. 9 was the first to shift, propping himself up on wobbly arms and staring down at 5 to see if he was just as astonished and breathless. 5 was smiling when their optics met. He gently stroked a finger down the one side of 9’s open zipper, taking in the sound of the quiet rattling that made.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for you,” he whispered quietly.

The words were not what 9 had been expecting and he was quite taken aback. He searched 5’s face intently before ultimately matching his smile, “And I’m glad I awoke to a world with you in it.”

In the grand scheme of things, two beings uniting on any given occasion wouldn’t seem spectacular to anyone outside the meeting. But, for the two who were able to find comfort with each other on a barren planet, to simply hold the other was nothing short of extraordinary. They reveled in each other’s presence as the afterglow lulled them into a satiated calm.

The world had lost much but love, it seemed, was a concept almost impossible to eradicate—it wasn’t always visible and was hard to find in the darkest of times but, undoubtedly, it was still there, persisting through the hardships.

And this, 9 supposed, was the same reason he chose to believe there were still stars.

 

 

-

The End.

 


End file.
